


I'm Just Plain Crazy 'Bout a Lot of Things, Baby (But I'm Ten Times Crazier About You)

by jdrush



Series: Doing It To Country Songs [6]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Bantering, Coffee In Bed, Humour, M/M, Modern AU, Sexy Times, maria the dog, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: “You're not the only one who wants more.”   Takes place approximately one year after 'It's a Damn Right, Hold You Tight, Baby I'm Gonna'.  The sixth story in the 'Doing It To Country Songs' series.
Relationships: Joshua Faraday/Vasquez
Series: Doing It To Country Songs [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1475423
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	I'm Just Plain Crazy 'Bout a Lot of Things, Baby (But I'm Ten Times Crazier About You)

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: NC-17 for m/m sexual situations  
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters, and I made no money off this story. Title is from Blake Shelton, as if you didn't know that already. Oh, and I may have stolen, ahhhh, BORROWED a line from “Parks and Recreation”. Sorry about that.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES: A big 'Thank You!' to everyone who has left kudos and feedback on the other stories in this series. I'm happy people are enjoying them, and hope you enjoy this one, too. As always, all Spanish comes from Google Translate. No betas were harmed in the making of this fic. All mistakes are mine.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES PART DOS: Dedicated to the birthday boy, Chris Pratt. I had to scramble to get this done in time, but by golly, I did it!

*translations are in parentheses *

Faraday wasn't sure what woke him up. The clicking of the bedroom door shutting? The dip of the mattress as someone crawled onto the bed next to him? Or perhaps it was the delicious smell of coffee wafting in the air? Quite frankly, he didn't care. He knew which one was most important. Still half-asleep, he rolled onto his side and threw his arm over Rafe's chest, the skin warm and wet from a recent shower. “Mmpfhth,” or some such sound passed his lips.

“You say something, mijo (hon)?” Rafe asked, amused.

Blindly, Faraday groped with his hand until it connected with the mug Rafe was holding. “Coffee,” he muttered, sleepily.

“Yes, it is,” Rafe chuckled, settling his back against the headboard.

The hand tightened on the mug. “Want some,” Faraday mumbled, his voice scratchy and drowsy.

Rafe swatted the hand away. “Then get your lazy ass out of bed and get some.”

“Don't gotta,” came the petulant reply. “It's Saturday.” The hand was back.

“All the more reason to get up and get the day started,” Rafe replied, cheerfully.

“C'mon, Vas,” Faraday begged, his hand grasping the mug as if his life depended on it. “Don't be such a dick.”

“A bit hungover are we, querido (dear)?” Any sympathy in that statement was erased by the gleeful tone in Rafe's voice. “I told you to leave the Patrón to the professionals.”

It's very possible Faraday had over-indulged the night before—you only turn 35 once, and if your friends are going to take you to your favourite bar and buy you free birthday drinks, it's rude to turn them down—but he wasn't going to admit that to Rafe. Choosing to sidestep the question, he opened one bright emerald-green eye, and in a slow, seductive purr, he said, “I'll do anything for a sip.”

That piqued Rafe's interest. “Anything, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm. . .anything.”

Rafe tsked in disapproval. “I didn't know you were so easy, guero. Selling your soul for a cup of coffee.”

“Stop teasing,” Faraday whined in an annoying nasal tone.

“Ask nicely.”

Faraday huffed a disgruntled huff before asking, rather sarcastically, “Can I have some coffee. . . puleeeeeezzzz?”

“THAT'S nicely?”

“I said please.”

“Reluctantly.”

“Reluctantly counts.”

“You could show a bit more enthusiasm.”

“What do you want for eight AM?” Faraday snapped. “Now give me the fucking mug before it gets cold!”

“You're really not a morning person, are you?”

With a scowl, Faraday informed him, “You can be a real shit, you know that? Just forget about it.”

Rafe finally relinquished control of the mug with a laugh. “Here you go, mi oso gruñón (my grumpy bear),” he teased.

Faraday didn't know what that meant and was ready to respond with a heartfelt 'fuck off', but at that moment, his entire concentration revolved around the mug in his hand. Taking a deep sip, he half-moaned, “Oh, God, so good.” Sweeter than he normally liked it, but that was to be expected, since Rafe had the biggest sweet-tooth known to mankind.

“Don't forget these,” Rafe told him, handing over two aspirins.

Best boyfriend ever.

Popping the pills with another sip of the dark nectar earned some appreciative low, pleasured murmurs. One last mouthful, and he handed it back to Rafe. “Thanks,” Faraday sighed, giving the scruffy jaw a quick peck before closing his eyes and snuggling back under the covers, hoping to catch another hour or two of precious sleep.

Rafe placed a small kiss on Faraday's brow. “You're welcome, cariño (sweetie),” he whispered, getting a contented little hum in return. Rafe took a drink himself before placing the half-empty mug on the bedside nightstand, next to the copy of “Leaves of Grass” he had been reading to Faraday in an attempt to introduce some culture into the man's life beyond the latest Vin Diesel movie.

But poetry was the last thing on Rafe's mind at the moment as he turned back to the slumbering beauty beside him. With a quick tug on the sheets, he soon found himself gazing upon a very naked, and very startled, Joshua Faraday. A predatory smile crossed his face as he bent down, and captured the parted lips in a deep kiss, tasting of the rich coffee they had been sharing.

“RAFE!” Faraday yelped, pushing away from the other man. “What the fuck, dude?”

“You said you'd do anything,” Rafe reminded him, his mouth instinctively finding that sensitive spot behind Faraday's ear that made him mewl like a kitten. “I'm taking my fee.”

“I didn't say NOW!” Faraday protested, in between mewls.

“Sorry, payment due on delivery,” Rafe stated, his hands skimming over the Faraday's hips, pulling him in tighter.

“Vas. . .” Faraday tried again, but that was as far as he got, as Rafe's mouth descended on his once more. A helpless moaning sob of surrender rumbled between them as Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering Faraday's receptive mouth. Muscular thighs parted, allowing Rafe to settle comfortably between them, his damp towel the only thing preventing full skin-on-skin contact.

Best hangover cure ever.

Faraday's whole body seemed alive and thrumming as he rocked beneath Rafe, losing himself in the scent, the taste, and the heat of the man. It was therefore quite a shock to his system when Rafe suddenly pulled away. With a last, playful nip to Faraday's lower lip, he implored, “Let go, mijo. I've got to get dressed.”

“Your own fault,” Faraday said, yanking at the useless towel. “Shouldn't have started something you couldn't finish.”

“I will finish,” Rafe informed him, grabbing back his towel, “just not now. Em's expecting me.”

Faraday glared up at him. “You get me all hot and bothered just to run off to Emma!?” he exclaimed, incredulously. “Not cool, amigo!”

“I promised I'd help her and Matt repaint their master bedroom today,” Rafe explained, trying to get off the bed. “I'm supposed to be there by 9:00. She'll will have my cahones if I'm late.”

“Well, she can't have them,” Faraday stated, pushing Rafe onto his back and straddling his waist. “They're already mine.”

“We don't have time for this,” Rafe argued, rolling Faraday over and off of him. Again, he tried to make his escape, only to be thwarted as Faraday grabbed his wrist and pulled him back onto the bed, the towel fluttering to the floor.

“I've got an idea,” Faraday said, crawling once more atop Rafe's body, his hands canvassing the firm, furred chest. “How about a little friendly wager?”

“None of your wagers are ever friendly,” Rafe correctly pointed out.

As if he didn't hear that snide dig, Faraday continued, “You win, you can leave.”

Rafe's eyebrow rose in curiosity. “And if you win?”

“Dealer's choice,” Faraday answered with a wink.

A gleam twinkled in Rafe's eye at the challenge. “Te gusta jugar con fuego (you like to play with fire)” he growled, as he pushed against Faraday's broad shoulders.

Faraday landed on the mattress with a thud. “I'll take that as a 'yes',” he grunted, as he pushed back.

For the next few minutes, they both grappled for dominance, each trying to best the other. Faraday may have been bigger, but Rafe was more cunning. Either one had a chance of coming out on top, as they rolled around the bed naked. On other occasions, this would just be fun foreplay for them, but that morning, it turned into a serious wrestling competition.

Not that their bodies seemed to know the difference.

Finally, a winded Rafe triumphed, lying across an equally winded Faraday. Clasping Faraday's wrists in his hands, he stretched the limbs over the man's head, and pinned them to the pillow. “I win,” he declared, proudly.

Faraday struggled against his human handcuffs for a moment but Rafe's hold was firm. “You cheated,” he accused.

Rafe smirked at that. “Well, you would know.”

Another futile escape attempt, followed by a snort of laughter. “Asshole.”

Leaning down, Rafe pressed a quick kiss to Faraday's nose. “I'll give you a rematch tonight, yes?”

His hands might have been trapped, but Faraday wasn't completely helpless, and he wasn't ready to admit defeat. “What about right now?” he proposed, wriggling beneath Rafe's weight. “Best two out of three?”

“I told you, I'm late.” But Rafe's words didn't seem to have the same sense of urgency as earlier.

“Then it won't matter if you're more late,” Faraday retorted, canting his hips. . just. . .so. . .

“Dios mío! (my god) ” Rafe gasped as Faraday's erect cock caressed his own. “You're killing me here, guero.”

“Want you,” Faraday murmured in between kisses along Rafe's collarbone, his heavy stubble scraping against the tender skin. “Fuck me.”

The neediness in Faraday's voice shot straight to Rafe's dick, and his promise to Emma flew right out the window. He released Faraday's left wrist and blindly reached out towards the nightstand, trying to retrieve the lube he had dropped there hours earlier. In his haste, his hand knocked over the forgotten mug, spilling the remains of the cooling coffee, his beloved book a victim of the carnage. “Mierda (Fuck)!” he cried out angrily, momentarily distracted.

“Leave it,” Faraday mumbled, running his tongue over Rafe's Adam's apple.

“My Whitman!” Rafe bemoaned.

“I'll buy you another one.”

“It was a limited edition.”

“Damn it, just shut up and kiss me!” Faraday commanded, slipping his freed hand around the back of Rafe's head and drawing him in for a fiery kiss, a kiss that left them both breathless, and burning for each other.

Faraday's ardor convinced Rafe to ignore his book for the time being. He snatched the tube from the table, and, after releasing Faraday's other wrist, squeezed some of the gel onto his fingers. Warming it between his fingertips, he pressed one slender digit between Faraday's legs. He caressed the sensitive puckered skin before carefully pressing his finger in. One finger quickly became two. As Faraday was still slick and pliant from the night before, the preparation didn't take long. Rafe took a quick moment to slip on a condom and apply some lube to his own painfully hard cock before he grasped Faraday's hips in both hands, and began pressing forward.

Even as stretched and relaxed as he was, Faraday still gasped when Rafe breached him, the eloquent pleasure/pain a delicious prelude for what was to come. Knowing Faraday's tells, and not wanting to hurt him, Rafe paused to give him time to relax and adjust.

It took only a few moments for the discomfort to lessen enough so Rafe could continue, gradually sinking into Faraday's willing body. When he was fully sheathed, he took a moment to gently kiss Faraday's lips. Faraday wrapped his legs around Rafe's hips and sighed happily, enjoying the sense of completion he had never felt before Rafe had walked into his life. The sigh morphed into a low groan, as Rafe's mouth drifted down and latched onto the side of his neck, raising a mark sure to last a day or two, at the least.

Faraday ran his hands up Rafe's slim waist and over his strong back, before wrapping around his shoulders. A breathy, “Do it,” ghosted across Rafe's cheek, a request he eagerly granted, pulling out and thrusting deep again.

At first, Rafe's tempo was slow and steady, pistoning in and out, almost lyrical in its fluidity. "Oh, God, yeah. . .right there," Faraday wheezed, pushing himself up, driving the hard shaft even deeper within him, his hands clutching at sweat-slicked skin. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the myriad of sensations Rafe ignited within him, quickly losing himself in the rhythm and pleasure of their union as moans, sighs, and soft curses spilled forth from his parted lips.

Somehow, through all the swirling chaos, a husky whisper managed to pierce his lust-filled trance. “Look at me, mi amor (my love),” it implored.

The sincerity of the request touched something deep within Faraday; he opened his eyes, to be greeted by Rafe's intense gaze. Those dark brown orbs, almost as black as the coffee they had been drinking, were now clouded with hunger and a heat that burned through Faraday's soul. He felt himself drowning in those eyes as he undulated his hips in counterpoint to Rafe's quickening thrusts, the two of them moving in practice-makes-perfect sync.

By now, each snap and twist of Rafe's muscular hips had Faraday moaning shamelessly. Breathless pants turned into broken sentences, Faraday barely lucid enough to mutter, "Oh god. . .fuck. . .harder. . .oh god. . .Rafe. . .yeah," until finally tapering off into wordless groans which grew louder by the second.

It wasn't long before the rhythmic strokes began losing their rhythm, signaling the end was near. Rafe pumped into Faraday harder and faster, almost mindless in his rutting. Harsh rumbling grunts accompanied each deep plunge and retreat until, with a low roar, he came, even as he continued to thrust into the man beneath him. It only took a few more strokes, and soon Faraday joined him, his passionate screams ringing through the room.

As their climatic cries trailed off, a sudden loud banging came through the wall behind the bed. Both men jumped, startled by the noise; a moment later, Rafe burst into laughter while Faraday blushed beet-red with embarrassment.

“Thin walls,” Rafe observed through his guffaws.

“You think?” Faraday snarked, pushing a still giggling Rafe off of him, causing the muscles in his back to twinge. “Fuck, I think I broke something that time.”

“Complaining?” Rafe asked, as he quickly disposed of the condom.

“Nope, but I'm sure Mrs. Marlow will be at the next tenant's meeting,” Faraday replied, gesturing towards the wall with his thumb.

“You won't get in trouble, will you?”

“Who cares?” Faraday commented, flopping across Rafe's chest, his head resting over the man's still racing heart. “That old bag is always complaining about something.”

“Maybe she'd do less complaining if you didn't call her an 'old bag',” Rafe remarked, wrapping his arm around Faraday's hip.

“I don't do it to her face.” Rafe just gave him a knowing look. “Okay, maybe once. But I was drunk.”

“Oh, mijo,” Rafe chuckled. “What am I going to do with you?”

Faraday waggled his eyebrows. “Do you need some suggestions?”

“Maybe later. Em's expecting me. No snuggles today, I'm afraid.”

“Not snuggling,” Faraday argued, even as he tightened his hold.

Rafe kissed the top of his head. “Of course you're not.” Rolling out from under a not-snuggling Faraday was difficult, but necessary, and Rafe was eventually free. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glanced down at himself and groused, “I think I need another shower.”

If Faraday was concerned with his Rafe's predicament, he didn't show it, as he kicked out his legs until his sated, sweaty body lay sprawled across the entire disheveled bed. He looked thoroughly and completely debauched, and quite pleased about it. “Why bother?” he said, running his fingers through his tousled, auburn curls. “You're only going to get dirty painting anyway.”

“I smell like the floor of a porn theater,” Rafe explained, patiently.

“And you've been in enough porn theaters to know that?” Faraday joked.

“Fuck you.”

“You just did,” Faraday shot back. “And quite well, thank you very much.”

“Sabelotodo (smart ass),” Rafe laughed as he hopped off the bed. Picking up his discarded towel from the floor, he made his way towards the bedroom door, completely unaware that Faraday was ogling him, enjoying the flex of his taut buttocks as he walked across the room. Unaware, that is, until a wolf-whistle pierced the air. He turned back, and glared at his troublesome boyfriend. “You're asking for it this morning, cabrón (bastard).”

Faraday leered. “Already got it, but I'll take some more, if you're offering.”

Rafe opened his mouth for another snappy comeback, then changed his mind. He knew Faraday would just keep going until he managed to get in the last word, and he was REALLY late. So he just shook his head tolerantly, opened the door, and headed off to the bathroom.

Now alone, and still blissfully surfing the high of their morning romp, Faraday grabbed the sheets and pulled them around him, fully intending to catch a few more winks. Those plans were quickly dashed as Maria scampered into the room through the open door, jumped up onto the bed, and started barking.

Faraday cursed under his breath. “Dammit, Rafe! That's why we keep the bedroom door closed!” He had probably done it on purpose. Asshole.

Knowing from past experience that the barks would only get louder the longer he ignored her—and not wanting to antagonize Mrs. Marlow any further —Faraday gave a resigned sigh. “Okay, Meems,” he mumbled. “I'll take you out in a minute.”

Hearing the word 'out', Maria yipped happily, jumped down to the floor, then raced from the room.

With another resigned sigh, Faraday dragged himself out of his comfortable bed. First thing he noticed was the damaged book on the nightstand. Moving it off to the side, he righted the overturned mug and began mopping up the puddle of coffee with some tissues. He soon realized the mess was going to require a more in-depth cleaning effort, and gave up with a frustrated grunt. Grabbing a few more tissues, he rubbed them over his torso, wiping away the drying semen. That done, he threw on a pair of sweatpants and the henley top he had worn the night before and with a yawn, stepped out of the room.

Maria greeted him in the hallway with a friendly bark, then ran to the front door, and barked again, making her request obvious, just in case Faraday didn't understand the first time. “I know, Meems,” he muttered, as he pulled on his sneakers. “You wanna go out.” Snapping on her leash, he scooped up his keys, and they were on their way.

Ten minutes later, after she had done her business, they were back in the apartment. Now wide awake, Faraday gave up on the idea of sleeping in late, and made his way to the kitchen instead. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and snagged a donut from the box on the counter. Taking a bite from that one, he threw another onto a plate, then with mug in hand, he sat down at the kitchen table. Within seconds, Maria wandered over and sat by his chair, staring up at him with big, pleading eyes. Breaking off a small piece of donut, he fed it to her with the admonishment, “Don't tell Rafe.”

Of course, Rafe took that moment to stroll into the room, dressed in jeans and a very familiar looking tee-shirt. “Don't tell Rafe what?” he asked.

Not wanting to get a lecture about feeding sweets to his dog, Faraday deflected that question with one of his own. “Are you wearing my Allman Brothers Band shirt?”

“Si.”

“Why?”

“Because I won't have time to go back to my place and change, and it was the only clean shirt I could find.” The look on Rafe's face dared Faraday to argue with him.

Remembering that Rafe had worn one of his expensive tailored shirts to last night's birthday celebration—and acknowledging it was partly his fault the man was running late—Faraday let it slide. “You better not get paint on it.”

“I'll do my best.” Approaching the table, Rafe leaned down and gave Faraday a quick kiss. “Is that all you're having?” he scolded, even as he took a bite out of the donut Faraday was holding.

“Breakfast of champions,” Faraday quipped cheekily, popping the rest of the pastry into his mouth.

“You really should start taking better care of yourself,” Rafe commented, sliding into the other seat at the small table. Maria immediately rushed over to him, pawing at his leg to get his attention. He gave her a smile and a satisfying ear-scratch. “Hola, pequeña (little one).”

“You should talk,” Faraday said, brushing at the powdered sugar clinging to Rafe's cheek. “All those sweet treats you keep bringing over. You're corrupting me.”

“Now THAT'S funny, coming from a man who has eaten at every food truck in southern California,” Rafe joked, reaching for Faraday's coffee.

But Faraday was quicker. He grabbed the mug and held it possessively against his chest. “Nuh-uh!” he objected. “Get your own cup!”

“I did,” Rafe reminded him. “And as I recall, you drank most of it, so you owe me.”

“And if *I * recall, I already paid for it,” Faraday fired back.

“You didn't seem to mind at the time.”

“Who said I did?”

“Certainly not Mrs. Marlow,” Rafe deadpanned.

“Maybe we should move the bed to the other side of the room,” Faraday suggested.

“Or you could get another apartment,” Rafe threw out, offhandedly.

“Not likely,” Faraday scoffed. “This place might not be the Ritz, but at least the rent is cheap.”

“Then get a room-mate.”

That earned a second, louder scoff. “Who the hell would want me for a roommate?” His question was met with a grin, and a small, leather pouch placed on the table in front of him. “What's that?” he asked.

“I didn't get a chance to give you your gift last night.”

Faraday smirked. “You mean pounding me through the mattress wasn't my gift?”

“It was part of your gift. That,” pointing at the bag, “is the other part.”

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, Faraday picked up the pouch and tipped the contents into his hand. He stared at the shiny silver key—attached to a Seattle Seahawks keychain—for a moment, confusion creasing his brow. “What is. . .?” he started to say before his brain quickly ran through their conversation and the dim light-bulb in his attic went on. “Wait. Is this. . .? Are you. . .?” He looked up at Rafe, mouth agape. “Did you just ask me to move in with you?”

An eyeroll accompanied Rafe's answer. “A little slow on the uptake there, guero.”

“Gimme a break. I'm still hungover thanks to your damn tequila.”

“No one said you had to drink it.”

“Someone gives me free booze, I'm gonna drink it.”

“I'm putting that on your tombstone.” Nodding at the key, Rafe asked, “So . .?”

“So. . .?” Faraday repeated.

“So. . .what do you think? You? Me? Moving in together?”

Trying to ignore the funny feeling in his chest at the sound of those words, Faraday took a sip of his coffee before announcing, “I think it's a crazy idea.”

“Maybe, but it's also a great idea,” Rafe countered. “I have plenty of room. It would save you money. We'd get to sleep together in the same bed every night. Your TV would look amazing in my living room. And you wouldn't have any nosy neighbors banging on your wall when you get too. . .” he paused and grinned, “vocal.”

“That all sounds good, especially the last one,” Faraday admitted, since Mrs. Marlow—always disapproving of him and his 'life-style choices'—had gone from an occasional nuisance to the neighbor from hell. “But don't you think it's too soon?”

“We've been seeing each other for nearly a year,” Rafe noted. “That's longer than my last three relationships combined.”

Faraday had no desire to think about Rafe's previous relationships. Moving away from that topic, he asked, “And what about Mimi?”

Hearing her name, she gave a couple of sharp yaps. “Of course Maria's welcome, too. Aren't you, girl?” Rafe leaned down and gave her a chin scritch, which set her tail wagging happily. “Such a perra dulce (sweet dog)!”

“Yeah, well, that peera doolcy is also a curious and destructive peera. Remember what she did to my dear, departed lamp.”

“You said you never liked that lamp.”

“My point exactly. What do you think will happen to your expensive furniture and all your nice things with her around?”

Rafe shrugged. “They're just things. They can be replaced.”

“I'll remind you about that every time she breaks something.”

“I don't care. I'd much rather have you two filling my house than any of those things anyway.” Reaching across the table, Rafe clasped Faraday's hand which was still holding the key. A soft smile graced his face as he confessed, “You're not the only one who wants 'more'.”

Again, that funny feeling bubbled up in Faraday's chest. “We've already got more than I ever had before in my life,” he said, sincerely, even as he grimaced internally for saying something so mushy.

Rafe gave Faraday's hand a friendly squeeze. “I feel the same, corazón (sweetheart).”

“What if it doesn't work out?” Faraday asked, finally voicing his greatest fear. “I mean, I'm not an easy man to live with.”

Rafe pretended to think about for a moment. “Well, I guess we'd break up, I'd get another boyfriend, and I'd cheat on him with you.”

That broke through all the seriousness of the moment. “Asshole,” Faraday snorted.

Rafe lifted Faraday's hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Look, I know this is a big decision, and I just sprung it on you out of the blue, but can you at least think about it? Take as much time as you need. Weigh the pros and cons. Maybe talk it over with your friends. And when you're ready. . .”

“Yes.” The word was out of Faraday's mouth before he realized he had spoken.

“Yes. . . you'll think about it?” Rafe asked, hopefully.

“Yes, I want to move in with you,” Faraday clarified.

“Just like that?” Rafe's surprise was obvious, but Faraday knew the last thing he wanted to do was talk this over with his friends—those jerks were useless when it came to helpful advice. And if he actually stopped to think about it and 'weigh the pros and cons', he'd probably run in the other direction. No. Better to do what he always did. . .jump in with both feet and hope for the best.

“Well, I might be an idiot, but I'm not a total idiot,” Faraday said, with a lot more confidence than he felt.

“No, definitely not a total idiota,” Rafe chuckled.

“Besides, I'm a gambler, right? So, let's roll the dice and hope it doesn't come up snake-eyes.”

The smile Rafe flashed him was almost blinding. “Oh, mijo! You've made me so happy!” he declared. “You won't regret this!”

“I think already am,” Faraday muttered, shooting Rafe a dirty look as he snatched the other donut off the plate.

“It's just a donut, guero.”

“Yeah, MY donut.”

Taking a bite, Rafe informed him, “What's yours is mine now. That's how it works.”

“I didn't know that included donuts. I may have to rethink this.”

“Too late. You said yes.” Rafe took another bite out of the pastry. “You're stuck with me now.”

That didn't sound like such a bad deal to Faraday, actually. “Okay, as long as they're not chocolate frosted.”

“You wound me,” Rafe mock-pouted, as he broke off a small bit and passed it to Maria, who had been waiting patiently at his feet. “So when do you want to do this?”

 _I'm never going to get that dog trained_ , Faraday thought, sadly. In response to Rafe's question, he replied, “I haven't given it much thought, since you LITERALLY just asked me, but my lease is up in a couple of months, and. . .”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe cut in. “That won't do at all! What about next weekend?”

Faraday felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. “So soon?”

“The sooner the better.” Rafe grinned. “And I'm sure Mrs. Marlow would agree.”

“Sounds like you're in a hurry.”

“Aren't you?” Rafe asked around a mouthful of donut.

Looking at Rafe's stupidly handsome face sitting across the table, its nose smudged with powdered sugar, Faraday had that funny feeling in his chest once more, and knew he didn't want to wait one minute longer to be with this man. “Yeah, I am. But that's a lot of packing to do in week.”

“That's what friends are for!” Rafe exclaimed. “You give Goody and Billy a call and see if they can pop around tomorrow to help out, and I'll talk to Emma and Matt. Do you think Jack will let us borrow his utility trailer?”

“I'm sure he will,” Faraday replied, getting caught up in Rafe's excitement. “And I'm meeting Red at the archery range later. Maybe he'll agree to take Meems for a few days. It might be easier if she's not underfoot.”

“I hope you're better with a bow and arrow than you are with horses,” Rafe joked.

Faraday glared at him. “Let it go, Rafe.”

“Never.” Rafe's laughter was cut off by his cellphone ringing. One look at the caller-ID and he blanched. “It's Em.”

“Speak of the devil.”

“I better get going,” Rafe announced, popping the last bite of donut in his mouth. “We'll talk more about this later.”

“Have fun. Tell her I said 'hi'.”

“You're welcome to join us, if you want.”

“Hmmm. . .repainting a bedroom, or shooting bullseyes with my bro? Decisions, decisions.”

“Just figured I'd ask,” Rafe tossed out, as he stood up.

“You still coming over tonight to watch the game?” Faraday asked, sipping his coffee.

“Of course. Need me to bring something for dinner?”

“Taco Bell?”

Rafe just gave him a look. “If you want tacos, I'll get some REAL ones.”

“Don't forget the guac.”

“Have I ever? We good for dessert?”

“I still have some birthday cake from the office party in the fridge, if that meets your approval.”

“Perfect.” Rafe bent down and cupped Faraday's chin in one hand and gave him a fierce kiss. “Te amo. (I love you)”

It still surprised Faraday how easily Rafe said that to him. He wished he could say it back, but he wasn't quite there yet. He had only ever said those words to his mom and his old Gran. However, if there was someone else who would hear them from his lips, it would be this man. Until that day, he replied as he always did, with a smile and a simple, “Me, too.”

And Rafe responded the way he always did, with a smile brighter than the sun. “I'll see you tonight,” he vowed, bushing a kiss to Faraday's cheek. With a final, “Adios, pequeña!” and a pat to Maria's head, he grabbed his jacket, and glided out the door.

For long minutes after Rafe left, Faraday sat at the table, looking at the key in his hand, and thinking about how crazy the last year had been. Sometimes he wondered how something so good had happened to a man like him. Sometimes he worried about how addicted he had become to Rafe's kisses and the feel of Rafe's skin pressed against his. Sometimes he felt like he was dreaming, and was terrified of waking up. Sometimes his insecurities would surface, telling him this couldn't last. Sometimes he thought he was in over his head. Sometimes he got scared.

And sometimes, like now, he didn't give a flying fuck about any of it. The most amazing man in the world just invited him to move in together, and he was happier than any person had a right to be.

Figuring he had better start getting ready if he was going to meet Red on time, he finished up his coffee and put the mug and plate in the sink to be washed later. After that, he filled up Maria's food and water bowls, much to her delight. With an ear-scratch and a command to behave—which he knew she'd ignore the moment his back was turned—he made his way to the bedroom to find something to wear. As he passed the nightstand, he saw Rafe's poetry book, covered in coffee stains. Fingering it gently, and remembering how the stains got there, he smiled.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Donuts are not really good for dogs because of all the fat and sugar, but the couple of little bits given to Maria wouldn't hurt her. Still, it'd be better if you left them out of your dog's diet.


End file.
